


Sand

by SilverGopher



Category: Fallout - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-16 00:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12331470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverGopher/pseuds/SilverGopher
Summary: Maybe I'll actually finish this one





	Sand

       I remember the exact moment I got tired of farm work. I worked on my daddy's maize farm and every summer I had to stay home and pick corn. So I'd spend every day for a week or so from sun up to sundown picking corn. Then I'd spend a week shucking it. Then we'd spend a week canning it. every year for seventeen years I did this, and mid summer, on June thirtieth I think it was, I got fed up with walking through the cornfield.

 

       It was oppressively hot, cook an egg on the concrete and eat it hot. There was never any breeze in the corn, and it always weighed so much by the time you finished a row. If you were barefoot you'd be cut to ribbons by rocks and half rotted leaves. Some mutation in the way back when times caused the stalks to grow sharp thorns. It was distinctly unpleasant. I had been picking for three hours, and my bag was weighed down with maize, so I'd spun around to go and empty my bag up at the house. course it was just my luck that the old canvas bag got caught on one of them thorns. there was a moment before I realized what happened where I tried to walk forward then I heard the rip.

 

        Tearing canvas is a ripply high pitched sound, that is almost impossible to describe. it sounds a bit like a minigun, but quieter. That cash ended up tearing my bag apart under its own weight, and I spilled corn everywhere. a couple a cobs hit my feet, and even through the old leather work boots it hurt like a son of a bitch. So there I was hopping up and down, cursing up a storm in the middle of the cornfield while my daddy yelled at me for dropping the "god damned mutherfuckin corn" when it hit me. I didn't have to deal with this shite. I was an adult citizen of the NCR. I could join the army. Three hots and a cot, my own salary and they might even teach something valuable.

"This dos it, Pa, I'm gonna join the army."

"No son of mine's gonna join no goddamned army. Not while theres corn to pick!"

"I ain't picking any more corn, I'm gonna be a soldier."

"no, your not."

          He sent me inside, overlooking my fairly vulgar grumbling. honestly I don't know if he heard it over his own yelling about how the NCR is a waste of money, and how they're stealing our taxes. When I got inside the old ranch house my mom was sweeping the old wood floor. Honestly given that we lived in California, there was no getting rid of the sand. It was a hopeless fight, but one that my dad insisted my mom fight.  

 

         when she heard Pa yelling she bustled towards the door, her fingers kneading up her skirt. Pa said a woman should dress proper like, but I don't think mom ever got used to the skirts, and blouses. she crushed me in a big old bear hug, and set us to rocking back and forth. I can still kind feel the way her hair brushed my ears as she asked me, " what did you do to set em off? you can't keep doing this Jack."

"I know Ma, I know. I'm sorry I goy em pissed. All I said was that I was gonna join the army, and he exploded all over the place. I should apologize but I don't want be a farmer no more."

"I know sweetie, I know. he's not gonna forget this un, so wait till midnight. I'll distract him and you hit the road. take a knife and some food."

        Dinner that night was cornbread and beans, but it tasted like ashes in my mouth. we were all silent, so silent you could hear a brahmin fart from inside the house, and the barn was a couple hundred feet away. Dad glared at me the entire time, like he knew I was planning something. I ended up faking sick to get out of dinner early. I used some of that time to pack my shit, snacks and travel food, put a knife in my boot. they'd give me a uniform so I could travel light.

 

        anxiety twisted my guts into all kinds of knots. square knots, trailer hitch, and some of the more complex ones two. it was downright miserable, but eventually round midnight I heard the grunting and the creaking of old bedspring from my parents room. the distraction was under way now. so I stole out of my room, taking care not to step on the notoriously creaky floorboards, and all too soon I was out the door. But I didn't run, no. not on dessert sand, you'd get nowhere like that, so I walked. right until the sun was coming up, and I could see town maybe an hour or two away. 

 

      I could feel my stomach grumble, I'd been walking all night, so I decided to sit down and eat. sand was everywhere no matter what I did, so I just went ahead and popped open that can of cram. Nobody likes cram, least nobody iv'e ever meet, but everybody eats it. it's light, its filling, its cheap. it's absolutely revolting. I had some chips to go with the two hundred year old meat, but I could still feel it sticking to the back of my teeth, and sinking low into my gut.

 

     As I walked towards the town, it slowly got less hazy, but more slowly than I expected.  Main Street was paved, but none of the side streets were, and thats where all the lowlifes were skulking. one of them flashed a hand cannon at me, so I turned my head down and went towards what I remember being the recruiting office. 

"Welcome, are you here to join the army?," the recruitment officer boomed in a jovial tone. I'd later learn that every recuiter was happy, made it easier to sign up the more hesitant folks.

"Yeah, yeah I am. Is there paper work I have ta fill out, because I'm not to great at reading, or writing for that matter." 

"Ah, that don't matter none, I can fill it out for you son."


End file.
